


It's your light that gets me through

by Nilaza



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Love Confessions, M/M, This is not a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilaza/pseuds/Nilaza
Summary: Lorth Needa travels to theExecutorto meet his fate, along the way he thinks of Jerjerrod.





	It's your light that gets me through

**Author's Note:**

> Two fanfic's are alluded to here: [Bunn1cula's Empire Day ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5779498) and [A Signal Shown and a Distant Voice by Eisenschrott](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9107137)

So that was it, then.

“I will take full responsibility for losing them, and apologize to Lord Vader,” Needa said. Better him than his entire bridge crew, anyway. “Meanwhile, continue to scavenge the area.” 

“Yes sir,” Commander Crane said. His face remained impassive, but there was regret in his eyes. 

Needa smiled to him briefly. There was no time to say anything else. No time to thank him for years of being an excellent SIC, and a good friend. Needa hoped the _Avenger_ would fall to him now.

Straightening his already creaseless uniform, Needa walked calmly down the walkway from the bridge, hands behind his back, the picture of the perfectly controlled officer. The bridge had never been so quiet. The news that the Rebel ship had disappeared had stunned everyone. He felt the eyes of the entire crew follow him all the way to the lift in silence.

Needa’s heels clicked on the floor, and he listened to the ship around him as he moved beyond the bridge: the faint hum of engines, beeps of mouse droids and control panels, people talking, manning their posts. 

It was not _Avenger_ ’s fault, either. She had always been steady, and would continue to be long after him. He placed a hand on the durasteel wall for a moment, brushing it with his fingers, _you did well, my girl._

His personal Lambda shuttle was ready when he arrived in the hangar, and the pilot, Lieutenant Leeds, snapped to attention when he approached. Her face was as unreadable as ever, but she had a hard time meeting Needa’s gaze. When she finally did meet his eyes, she failed to hide her sadness.

Needa walked up into the shuttle with Leeds in tow, settling into the passenger area as Leeds took the pilot's seat. The engines started with an audible hum, and the shuttle ambled out through _Avenger_ ’s main hangar. The course for the _Executor_ was set straight ahead, and the trip would take twenty minutes, plenty of time to think.

His thoughts automatically turned to Tiaan Jerjerrod. They hadn’t seen each other since Empire Day, but kept up almost daily correspondences and a few holocalls. The last holocall having been rudely interrupted by a fire onboard Jerjerrod’s “orbital energy station.”

At that moment, he could see Jerjerrod’s face as clearly as if the man was right in front of him:. Unstressed, and free of worry, smiling happily. 

What if he was here now? and they were not on the way to the _Executor_? Needa wondered. 

He would lean forward and softly kiss Jerjerrod, feeling the other man hum in appreciation, maybe take his hand, feeling the soft skin under his lips as he kissed it. The thoughts were so tangible, he could almost smell Jerjerrod’s scent of wine and aftershave from the night they’d shared at Empire Day.  
He had to write something to him. He owed him that much, even if they had only known each other so shortly.

Needa rummaged around in a cupboard, and found a bottle of rum. Without bothering with a glass, he sipped straight from the bottle. He felt a little horrified with his own lack of manners, but no one was around to judge.

Needa pulled up his pad, and opened his mailbox. The last mail from Jerjerrod was from the night before, a long letter that left Needa with the impression he was even more stressed and sleepless than ever. A pang of worry settled in the pit of Needa’s stomach. He hoped Captain Feste would pester him about getting enough sleep and daily meals. 

He pressed the “new mail” button on the pad.

_Tiaan_

_I hope you are asleep when I send this, as it is, in fact, late night standard time._  
_We chased the escaped rebels through an asteroid field, with the Avenger acting as spearhead of the operations. Regretfully, they managed to escape. The fault was entirely mine, and as you might imagine, I expect repercussions. I regret having to add to your burdens, which I am sure remain many, but you should know._

Needa hesitated, what to write that didn’t sound too macabre? He had no illusions as to what would happen, and he wanted Jerjerrod to understand what he meant to him. He took another sip from the bottle, the rum burned its way to his stomach. It warmed him, but it felt false, especially when he longed for Jerjerrod’s presence.

_My only regret is not having more time on our hands, but fate and failure on my part must part us much sooner than I had hoped. Every night I have eagerly awaited your letters, and I have resisted more than once the urge to go to you, on leave or not. I have been alone in my bed many nights and thought of you, wanting to be in your arms. I wish I could show you my home on Coruscant, and see yours on Tinnel IV. I wish I had the time to know you properly. But know I meet my fate happier for having known you. Please stay safe._

Again Needa’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. He wanted to tell Jerjerrod what he felt, but he didn’t want it to be too much. He checked his chrono and looked out the viewpoint. Ten minutes till landing. The _Executor_ was steadily growing closer, filling out the viewpoint over the pilot’s head. Overshadowing the nearby Star Destroyers, she lay vast and deadly on the edge of the asteroid field, like a cat waiting for a mouse. Right now, it just so happened that he was a mouse. He shook his head and refocused on the text. His letter might be a bit forward and heavy-handed, but he could not bear leaving what he felt for Jerjerrod unsaid, especially when it was so obvious to himself.

_I love you, Tiaan._

_Yours always_  
_Lorth Needa._

He imagined kissing Jerjerrod, running his fingers through that soft hair, and looking into his eyes, seeing them light up. A smile spread on his own lips, and the heavy feeling in his stomach was countered by a warmth that spread from his heart. A few tears pricked in the crooks of his eyes, and he removed his glove to wipe them away. He had seldom met such an intelligent, well-versed man who was equally handsome and had a humor to match. What cruel irony he should fail so miserably at his duty right after meeting him.

Needa reread what he had written. It certainly encompassed his emotions. He took a last sip of the bottle and put the plug back into it. Then he pressed in Jerjerrod’s address, and hit “send.”

Needa looked out the viewpoint again. The _Executor_ was closer than ever, taking up the view almost entirely.  
Needa had chosen a naval career out of wanderlust, the pull of the stars. Being an officer in the navy was the only way his parents would ever accept him sailing for a living, and he had been content with his choice for twenty years. Despite the hardships and the losses, he had found friendships, had victories, had the pleasure of commanding an ISD. He had also found love. He had been single for longer than he cared to admit. Now he had finally found someone, and he was never to see him again.

This would not do. He had to pull himself together, be the perfect, composed officer once more. He rose from his seat and removed his gloves and cap to splash water on his face from the little faucet in the ‘fresher. Just as he put his gloves and hat back on, the little shuttle touched down in the massive hangar of the _Executor_.

“Sir, we’ve arrived.” Leeds sounded apologetic when she appeared from the cockpit and opened the ramp for him.

“Thank you,” Needa said. Lieutenant Leeds was as reliable and steady as the rest of his crew, and it pained him he should never see them again.  
Needa patted her shoulder, “It will be all right.” He turned around and walked down the ramp before she could reply, and she followed dutifully.

The hangar was well-lit but mostly abandoned except for the control tower. They were almost at the blast doors at the end of the hanger, when the doors slid open, and Admiral Piett appeared. Needa and Leeds both snapped to attention. “Admiral, sir.”

Ozzel would have gloated, or at least spoken about Needa’s inabilities. Piett had the human decency to look solemn. “Captain Needa, follow me.”

Needa and Leeds followed him through the doors and to the lift. Needa wished for an instant it had been Jerjerrod to see him. But only for an instant: he was not sure he could keep his composure if Jerjerrod was there.

“Lorth, I am sorry,” Piett broke the silence as they stood in the lift, his hooded eyes watching him seriously. “If there is anything I may do, please speak up.”

He could take him to the nearest transport, so he could fly off and spend a day, an hour or even a minute more in Jerjerrod’s embrace. 

“Kind of you, sir but there is nothing – unless you happen to have a cig?” He had not had time to smoke all morning, and he needed one desperately.

Piett gave him a cig and a lighter, and the lift was soon filled with the smell of clover-scented smoke and burning flimsi. Needa closed his eyes and dragged on the cig, letting the smoke fill him. He fisted his hands to keep them from trembling. They all fell silent. Piett stood ramrod straight, hands folded behind his back and stared off into space.

Needa always liked Piett. Many others scoffed at an Outer-Rimmer making it so high in the Imperial navy, but Needa found Piett to be intelligent and sympathetic. He was not surprised when he learned Piett had become the new admiral.

Leeds stood behind them both, and Needa thought he heard a tiny sound, like a sniffle, which he and Piett both ignored. 

Jerjerrod had smoked too, Needa remembered, same cigs, even. He took the scent in deeply.  
The lift stopped at bridge level and the doors slid open. They all walked out onto an empty corridor, just down the hall from the bridge. 

Needa turned to Leeds. “You don’t have to be here for this. Fly back to the _Avenger_.”

Leeds’ shoulders sagged a bit. “Yes sir.”

Needa smiled. “Stay safe, Leeds. You’re a good officer. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Yes, sir,” Leeds said. She looked like she was about to say more, but instead saluted and turned on her heels, practically fleeing to take the lift back down.

Piett didn’t say anything, but Needa turned around and tossed the cig into the nearest bin. He hesitated. “Permission to speak?”

“Granted.”

“Thank you, sir. My second in command, Commander Crane: I would like to recommend him for the captaincy.”

“I shall see what I can do,” Piett said.

“Thank you, sir.” They began walking, Needa half a step behind Piett as protocol dictated.

Stepping onto the bridge, the first hiss of Lord Vader’s respirator hit him like icy wind, chilling him to the bone. The hairs on Needa’s nape stood, and the warm feeling he had managed to uphold thinking of Jerjerrod disappeared entirely.

Vader stood with his hands on his belt looking directly at him through red helmet lenses. Needa felt his skin crawl, but he walked up to the sith lord, not showing an iota of fear.

_Tiaan, I am so sorry._

“My Lord!” Needa snapped to attention, back straight and pose impeccable. “I wish to convey my sincerest apology for losing the Rebel ship.”

_I cannot let them take the blame. Tiaan, I hope you understand._

“My crew was following my orders. The responsibility and the blame is mine alone. Therefore, I submit myself to the judgement and the punishment for this debacle. And I apologise deeply.” Needa stared straight into the gruesome mask, fists resting at his side and barely not trembling. Vader’s respirator hissed along. Needa thought of Jerjerrod’s smile.

_It is the right thing to do. The honourable one._

Vader said nothing, and didn’t move for several moments.

Needa conjured up an image of Tiaan before him: his eyes, soft lips, a warm hand reaching out to touch him, he could almost feel a gentle touch to his cheek for a moment. He clung to the image, refusing to give in to the cold dread curling in his stomach.

He didn’t see Vader’s hand move, but suddenly, his airways contracted slowly, painfully. He broke his composure to instinctively claw at his throat, but there was nothing physical to move. Vader’s respiratory breaths became louder in his ears as he himself fought for air.

_Tiaan, I love you._

Black dots and white flashes danced before his eyes, and he rattled as his vision blurred. He hardly noticed his knees hit the floor. His throat hurt, and he rasped and struggled for air. His last glance was at his executioner before his vision went black.

_Tiaan._


End file.
